o laugh again; but her mother said, in a
half-alarmed tone, "Well, Millicent, what is it? You speak of the new
man, Jackson, I suppose?"

"Madam, Robin tells me that early this morning, as soon as my Lord
Wilmot was gone, he went down to the blacksmith's with something of the
Colonel's--a chain, I think he said, or was it--"

"Never mind what it was," said Mrs Jane; "let us have the story."

"Well, he was in the blacksmith's shop, and to get out of the way of the
blacks, which were flying all over, he had slipped behind the door; when
who should come up but this Jackson, on Mrs Jane's horse, that had cast
a shoe. He could not see Robin, he being behind the door; I dare be
bound if he had, he would not have been so free in his talk. You know,
madam, what a horrid Roundhead the blacksmith is; Robin saith he wishes
in his heart he never had to go near him. Well, as this fellow holds
the horse's foot (and Robin says he did it the most awkward he ever
saw), he asks the smith what news. `Oh,' saith he, `none that I know
of, since the good news of the beating of the rogues of Scots.' `What,'
saith Jackson, `are none of the English taken that were joined with the
Scots?' Then, madam, the smith said, saving your presence, for really
it makes me feel quite creepy to repeat such shocking words, `I don't
hear,' quoth he, `that that rogue Charles Stuart is taken, but some of
the others are.' Oh, madam, to speak so dreadfully of His Sacred
Majesty!"

Mrs Millicent's eyes went up till more white than iris was visible.

"Very shocking, truly," said Mrs Lane. "Well, what further?"

"And then, madam, that Jackson said--Robin heard him!--`If that rogue
were taken,' quoth he, `he deserves to be hanged more than all the rest,
for bringing in the Scots.' Oh, dear, dear! that I should live to tell
you, madam, that a servant of my good master could let such words come
out of his lips! Then quoth the smith, `You speak like an honest man.'
And so Jackson up on the horse and rode away."

"Well, it doth but confirm me in my view that the man is a most
unsuitable guard for you, Jane. I shall speak to your brother about
making a change."

"I don't think Jackson is a Roundhead," said Mrs Jane quietly,
rearranging some laces in a little box.

"Dear heart, Mrs Jane! but what could the creature have said worse, if
he had been Oliver Cromwell himself?"

"Well, and I do not think he is Oliver Cromwell either," replied Mrs
Jane, lau